Page 57 of Finding Her Leading Man

Samantha reached down to take off her shoe. “No.”

“You said not to take off my dress. My shoes aren’t my dress.”

“I don’t care. I’ll take them off whenI’mready.” He kissed her lips. Everything about this woman was perfect. Her height. Her taste. The way she arched her back when his hand brushed over her breast.

Ignoring the voice in his head, the one acknowledging that she was perfect forhim,he focused on her breath. She sighed a breathy sound that ended with a moan, with his name on her lips.

Finally, he didn’t care. The promises he’d made to himself, to keep his distance, to keep from hurting someone the way he’d been hurt, disappeared. For the night, he wouldn’t think about the future. She was incredible.

She was his.

That dark thought slammed through his body. It pushed him faster. He didn’t deserve her. But then no one did. There wasn’t a man alive who was worthy of a woman like Samantha.

He reached behind her back, finding the zipper again, and pulled slowly. The dress dropped. Watching the fabric slide across her breasts and puddle at the floor topped anything he’d ever seen in his entire life. Her body and skin were gorgeous.

He caught the uncertainty in her expression a moment before she spoke. “You know there is a reason he called me frigid tonight.”

“Don’t bring him here with us.” He ran a hand down her warm body, over the curve of her hip, her butt, and then up to rest along the back of her neck. “His opinion doesn’t mean anything.” He kissed her again and pulled back. “Right now, the only opinion that counts is mine. I say you’re a freaking goddess. There’s not another man I want you thinking about tonight except me.”

She nodded her head, eyes wide. He pushed her back gently and she sat on the side of the bed, looking up at him for a moment before sliding back onto the bed. No woman would ever, for the rest of his life, compare to her in that one moment.

He knew it.

He unbuttoned his pants and crawled on the bed after her. He grabbed her ankle and tugged, pulling her underneath him.

She laughed. Frigid? The woman under him was alive, hot, and about to be his in every way that mattered.

Her slim fingers moved across his skin, lightly touching him and exploring while his mouth did the same to her. The song they would sing at Addie’s wedding fit. This was as close to Heaven as he’d probably ever get.

He slid his hand over her stomach and between her thighs. His eyes shut as she moaned. His control started to slip.

But he took his time. Touching. Tasting. Until she was out of breath with his name, the only word she could utter.

She reached over her head, fumbling once, and then handed, or really threw the condom. It bounced off his chest.

“Here,” she whispered, still moving against his hand.

He suppressed a chuckled. “I’m not sure you’re ready yet.”

“Bullshit,” she mumbled, arching her back, her eyes squeezing closed.

He grinned. The woman had never said a bad word. Until then.

He ditched his pants, rolled the condom on, pulled off her panties, and hovered over her in less than five seconds.

“My shoes?”

“I know.” He glanced down, once again confirming that the high heels stayed. Seeing her long legs wearing nothing but those damn shoes forced him to bite his lip. He normally had game, a typical routine that hardly varied. But with Samantha, he was hopeless at this point. Half out of his mind with need and desire.

The close call in his room a few days before made him question his sanity for not going through with what she’d offered him then.

It’d been worth the gamble.

He entered her with one long motion. Then paused again for restraint, his breath a ragged sound in his ears.

Her dark hair covered the pillow. Her nails scored down his back.

Frigid? No damn way.

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